


Throw Me to the Wolves

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: The Bloody Chamber [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Don't say I didn't warn you, F/M, Old Nan is Granny so I hope you all know what that means for her, Red Riding Hood AU, The Company of Wolves AU, Wolf!Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-27 07:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: Winter had been hard on Old Nan and everyone in the village worried about her, so it was decided that Sansa should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some bread and ale. On her way there, she meets a stranger...





	Throw Me to the Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> So real life has been busy and meh and it's been keeping me from writing for a while, but I'm back! 
> 
> Angela Carter's stories have been giving me some major ASOIAF and Stark vibes, so here's a little something I wrote inspired by one of them. There may be more one-shots based on other stories, most of them Jonsa. I'm just going to write those whenever I feel like doing so...
> 
> I'm not really sure how I feel about this one, but I desperately needed to write and post something :)

Winter had been hard on Old Nan and everyone in the village worried about her, so it was decided that Sansa should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some bread and ale. The fastest way to get there was through the forest, but Mother had warned Sansa that the woods were dangerous and that she should never stray from the path.

She'd nodded eagerly, keen to obey, but behind her mother's back she'd sulked and pouted. She'd wanted to spend her day working on a new summer dress,  chattering away at the well with Jeyne and Beth, perhaps watch the young men as they started repairs on the houses after the long winter. But now she'd have to spend her day struggling through the forest with a heavy basket. 

Still she listened and took her red shawl from the hook on the door and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was a good girl after all, not some wicked thing like her sister Arya.

By the time she entered the forest, her mother's warnings had already slipped to the back of her mind.

Winter had passed and now that spring was reigning, the woods had never looked more beautiful. The trees were blooming, flowerings springing up along the path, and the moss and ferns covering the forest floor and scattered rocks were the green of emeralds, drops of dew that had not yet disappeared making them sparkle like the gems they resembled in the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

She took in the enchantment of it all with wide eyes and quickly forgot about the dangers that might be lurking. The trees and brushes were alive with animals awaking after the long lull of winter and the song of birds was filling both the forest and Sansa's heart with joy. She hadn't gotten far when she could no longer resist joining them in their singing.

She sang about Jenny of Oldstones, with the flowers in her hair, and Florian and Jonquil, and as was bound to happen, as she'd learned from all the songs, her singing attracted an admirer. He appeared from a gap between the trees some three feet ahead of her, stopping her in her tracks.

He stood there looking at her, arms loosely crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the left. He was graceful and slender, with dark hair and dressed in brown wool and leathers. Sansa closed her mouth, realizing she was staring at him. "Good day to you, Ser," she called out.

"And good day to you, m'lady," he answered as he started strolling over to her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she tried to remember what her mother had said about strange men. 

"Please, m'lady, do not stop your singing on my behalf, I was quite enjoying it," he told her, holding her gaze.

His words pleased her, but she could feel heat flushing her cheeks. He blinked slowly and licked his lips and Sansa's heart sped up inside her chest.

"May I walk with you for a spell?" he asked, his stormy grey eyes open and kind.

She nodded and clutched the basket she was carrying a little closer to her body. 

They walked in silence for a while, until he asked: "What's your name, m'lady?"

"Sansa," she answered breathlessly.

"A pretty name for a pretty girl," he noted. "I am Jon," he added with a smile which didn't really look like a smile all that much, even if she couldn't decide why.

She glanced over at his face as they walked. He had a solemn look about him, a bit dour even perhaps, she mused, but when he met her eyes or offered her that odd smile, something fluttered deep inside her stomach.

"What do you have inside that basket of yours?" Jon asked.

"Bread and ale for Old Nan. She lives near the bridge three miles south of Weirwood Creek," she answered him. 

"But you're taking the long way!" he exclaimed, eyes wide and innocent. 

"Of course not," she countered with a smile. "The fastest way is through the woods."

"Aye," he agreed. "Through the woods, but you're following the path."

"Mother told me not to stray from the path," she mumbled, hating how silly she must sound to him.

He offered her a half-smile. "Ah, you're a good girl, aren't you? I bet you do every little thing your mummy tells you to do, now don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, her face flushing with anger this time.

"Why exactly did your mother tell you not to stray from the path again?" he asked her, head cocked to the side again.

"I..." she opened and closed her mouth. "She said it was dangerous," she told him, picking up her pace.

He easily kept up with her. "But why?"

She bit her lip. She wasn't about to admit that she didn't know why. "It's better if we stay on the path."

He raised an eyebrow. "We? You can stay on the path if you like, but I'll bet you I can get there faster than you can."

Her hands tightened on the handle of the basket. She nodded.

"Very well," he said. "Of course, I'll need a prize if I win the bet, wouldn't you agree?" 

"What kind of prize?" she breathed.

"How about a kiss?" he asked.

Her heart started hammering again, closing up her throat and making it impossible to speak as her eyes dropped to his full lips. She glanced up to meet his eyes and nodded.

"Let me take your basket," he offered.

She handed it to him and then watched him disappear between the trees. She began walking faster, determined to win the bet.  _A kiss,_ she thought as her feet carried her down the path. She'd never been kissed before, but she tried to imagine it. She wondered if his lips would feel as soft as they looked.

Perhaps she wouldn't mind losing the bet. Perhaps she wouldn't mind being kissed by this odd but exciting stranger. She realized she'd slowed down again and looked around, taking in her surroundings. To her left, there was a small clearing between the trees which was filled with blue flowers.

Perhaps she wouldn't mind making sure that he won the bet. Perhaps it would be for the best if she didn't take any chances. She abandoned the path and walked into the field to pick some flowers and weave them into a crown. That would give him enough of a headstart to get there first. 

Sansa ended up lingering in the meadow for a longer time than she'd intended, singing and dancing and picking all of the prettiest flowers, but eventually she'd made her way to Old Nan's cottage. It was already getting dark and the wind filled the evening with a menacing chill, but Sansa didn't shiver, she had her shawl to keep her warm. 

There was no sign of the stranger called Jon, so she knocked on the door and called out: "Nan, it's Sansa!"

No answer came. "Nan," she repeated a little louder than the first time. She tried knocking on the door again and slowly, it creaked open. As soon as she stepped inside, the dusty musky air inside filled her nostrils, making her sneeze and cough. A clattering noise came from the far side of the room.

Old Nan was nowhere to be seen, but perched on the bed in the corner of the hut was her dark stranger. 

Suddenly he was on his feet and the door clicked shut. She turned around to find him standing close to her, his eyes glowing in the dusk. It was quiet inside, except for the rattling still coming from the corner of the room.

"What big eyes you have," she whispered, clutching the ends of her shawl around her shoulders.

"All the better to see you with," he replied. 

She was about to turn around to examine the annoying clunking noise she kept hearing, when a chorus of howls rose up all around the hut. She hissed, startled by the sound.

"Those are my brothers, sweetling," the wolf told her.

She turned to look out the window, but it was too dark to see. "It's getting really cold outside," she whispered. He was standing right behind her, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body. 

She whirled around, clutching his forearms to steady herself. "What big arms you have," she muttered.

He leaned in until his nose was almost touching hers. "All the better to hold you with," he said.

She averted her eyes, her breath catching in her throat, and she licked her lips as her eyes fell on his mouth. She remembered she'd promised him a kiss. She angled her face up until she could press her lips to his. Outside the wolves started howling again.  _It sounds like a song,_ she thought,  _a wedding song._

His lips parted under her attention and she pulled his soft plump bottom lip between her own. She felt something wet and warm nudge her lip.

"Your prize," she explained as she pulled away with a gasp.

He smiled that odd smile, his teeth gleaming in the dark.

"What big teeth you have," she whispered.

His smile grew wider, showing even more of his teeth. "All the better to eat you with."

In the corner where the bed was, the clammering resumed. "Did you eat Old Nan?" Sansa asked.

He nodded.

She didn't know how to feel about that. "She was old and ugly and smelly. I bet she didn't taste very nice," she piped up.

"Not really, no," he admitted, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. "But you are young and pretty and you smell like flowers. I bet you'd taste sweet."

She giggled and objected: "I'm not a piece of meat."

He chuckled softly. "Show me."

She unwrapped her shawl and let it drop to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her as her fingers unlaced the bodice of her dress. He sucked in a sharp breath as it slid down her body and pooled at her feet. After that she removed her shift and let it join the heap at her feet.

His eyes followed her as she walked to the bed and lay down on it, waiting for him to follow.

He started undressing and she bit her lip as her mesemerized eyes drank in his body. But when his last piece of clothing hit the floor, the man was gone and an enormous white wolf with glowing red eyes was standing there instead.

The wolf leapt up on the bed and even though Sansa's heart was pounding inside her chest, she found that she was not afraid. The wolf lay down next to her, placing its huge head in her lap, and whined softly.

She patted its ears and neck and the wolf nuzzled at her belly and her maidenhair. Suddenly, instead of white fur, she was clasping dark curls between her fingers. The wolf was a man again.

He pushed her thighs apart and pressed his lips to her most intimate place. Something warm and wet nudged her lower lips, slipping in between them.

"Aye, you taste sweet," Jon told her in a rough voice. His eyes were dark and ravenous, but they didn't scare her.

"Kiss me," she begged him, so he did.

Sansa was a good girl, and she'd been told only wicked girls let men take their precious maidenheads, but she gave it up willingly and called her wolf husband. The blood staining the sheets was as bright as her pretty red shawl, but it didn't disturb her as she slept peacefully, safely wrapped up in the embrace of the wolf's tender paws. 

 


End file.
